Circumstances Unforseen
by Maladicta
Summary: In much need of repairs, Jack, Riddick and Imam put down on a planet in the grips of a civil war. Circumstances unforseen lead them to a mysterious woman with a past that could destroy all hope for the future.
1. Part 1

A persistent beeping roused Riddick out of what was an unusually calm sleep. As the control board swam into focus before him, his eyes zeroed in on the flashing orange light, located in a row of three to the bottom left of the controls.  
  
"What the?"  
  
He muttered as he tried to find the cause of the flashing light. Riddick stiffened slightly as his tired brain caught up with his tired eyes and processed what the light indicated. He turned slightly and shook the young girl, asleep in the co-pilots chair next to him, awake.  
  
"Ha? What? Who?"  
  
Jack mumbled as she stared bleary-eyed around the cockpit of the small skiff they were traveling in.  
  
"What's wrong? Are we being attacked? Have the Merc's found us?"  
  
Her voice was rising, to match her state of alarm.  
  
"Yes. A problem. Me. Nothing major. No. No."  
  
Riddick's reply stopped Jack's worried mind in its tracks as she tried to process his answers.  
  
"Go and wake Imam."  
  
Said Riddick punching in a few more keys. A small planet appeared on the view screen.  
  
"Why? What's wrong?" Asked Jack.  
  
"Just go and get Imam."  
  
Said Riddick giving Jack a little shove. Suddenly the planet on the screen disappeared and the lights in the cabin, which had been low till then, brightened, though not by much. Symbols, commands and counter commands, scrolled down the screen that the planet had been on and lines of letters and numbers sped across the main control screen. Riddick turned to a still waiting Jack  
  
"Now!" He growled.  
  
"So, what you are saying is that the wings are disintegrating,"  
  
Said Imam calmly. They were standing in the back end of the cabin discussing the problem.  
  
"In a manner of speaking.yes." said Riddick "I don't think Caroline,"  
  
His voice caught for a second as the memories surged inside him  
  
"I don't think Caroline had enough time to check and patch the wings. Fuck, I don't even know if she picked up the problem!"  
  
He muttered as he ran his hand over his shaved head.  
  
"Well what are we 'gunna do? We can't just sit here." Jack said.  
  
"According to the computer we've got about 72 hours until the situation with the wings reaches critical. There's a planet about 36 hours away. We can land, dock for repairs, and be on our way in about a week, maybe two." Said Riddick  
  
"But."  
  
Said Jack, with a trace of fear, Riddick cut her off.  
  
"Buy now the Hunter-Gratzner will have been reported as not reaching her first port-of-call and be noted missing, they might have even picked up the distress signal, if the Gratzner company cares any for the ship, which in my experience the merchant class have more invested in there ships then there passengers, they should have picked up the beacon by now and sent out a retrieval party, if not, we're just another ship that's got lost in space, gunna to be assumed we were eaten by a black hole or attacked by pirates, or something."  
  
"What will happen if we do not land on this planet?" Asked Imam  
  
"Well, the next habitable planet is about 70 hours away, it'd be a race to see if the wings make it." Answered Riddick quietly.  
  
"Well then there's no debate, we've got to land. I really don't know why you asked us in the first place if this was the only course of action."  
  
Muttered Jack between yawns, as she hauled her aching body back to the comfort of the co-pilots chair.  
  
"I think it would be wise to land on this planet, the wings need attention and so do you and the girl." Said Imam.  
  
Riddick looked at Imam, who raised an eyebrow and pointed to the bloody bandages wrapped tightly around Riddick's left leg.  
  
"It's not that bad." Riddick muttered, looking away.  
  
"On the contrary," Said Imam "It looks quite serious."  
  
"Yeah well we'll land soon, I'll get some medic attention then."  
  
Riddick said standing and walking, with just a bare trace of a limp, back to the cockpit.  
  
"Wait," Called Imam "What is the name of this planet?"  
  
Riddick didn't bother to turn around as he answered "Serenity". 


	2. Part 2

"Vatica, City of Rains."  
  
Mac looked up at the boiling black and purple clouds rolling across the leaden sky towards the inhabited part of the city.  
  
"City of the Dammed 's more like it."  
  
She muttered as she walked past yet another burned out house, though this one had a level of destruction the others lacked. The steel edging around the windows was bent and twisted outwards; the second story no longer existed and the architecture suggested a third should have been there.  
  
*Probably some High Family pissed off one of the local Gang Lords, enter the Peddlers, and exit the house*  
  
"Nice amount of shrapnel flying around."  
  
Mac murmured, entering the doorway. She silently commended whatever young up-start had thrown the 'drink', or whatever it was, 'drinks' didn't usually cause this much damage. She noted the trash spread around the bottom floor and the tattered remains, human bones with strips of cloth still hanging from them.  
  
"Rats!"  
  
She snarled in disgust and spat.  
  
"Must be getting desperate to be scoutin' so far from home."  
  
Mac looked back the way she had come, the devastation from the Religious Wars four years before stretched out for kilometres. Burned and bombed houses, churches, and Guilds, buildings with shattered windows and doors, if they were standing at all. No spear of green broke the desolation of the landscape and none would for centuries to come, the Fighters for the New Religion had seen to that, it was either them or the Luddites, it still hadn't been decided who detonated the last bomb, the one that had ended the Wars and taken out half the City while it was at it. And with every piece of garbage that had ever held a grenade claiming they 'did it' it probably never would. In one blast they had wiped out the entire ecosystem- the protists, the bacteria, the animals, the plants, and, in the end, the humans.  
  
*Though there wasn't many left by then* Mac thought sardonically.  
  
*No, as soon as things started getting heavy out here they ran for the city, like rats from a sinking ship*  
  
Rats.  
  
*No*  
  
Mac corrected her earlier thought,  
  
*Not all the animals died*  
  
Mac looked down at the bones scattered across the ground at her feet.  
  
*More's the pity* 


	3. Part 3

Jack looked around in shock. The space around Serenity was littered with rubbish; blasted satellites, weapons, broken down ships, and unidentifiable pieces of space junk. A lot of unidentifiable space junk. Some glowed a sickly green or yellow. They weren't recent either; some of the models looked like they pre-dated the Colonies.  
  
"Don't they have a Waste Disposal Program or something?"  
  
She muttered as a piece of glowing metal drifted past.  
  
"Why bother starting a program that might cost billions of credits when you've got space?"  
  
Answered Riddick with a sardonic laugh.  
  
A small space station, one of many, orbiting the planet, hailed them. It looked as dirty and as beaten up as the junk floating around it, though the weapons, mounted at intervals across the hull, were anything but.  
  
"What is your business on Serenity?"  
  
Growled a hard voice on the other end of the com. Riddick looked across at Imam. After a long discussion it had finally been decided that Imam would speak for them for the simple reason, Jack said "that it don't sound like he wants to kill you". They were 'Richard' and 'Jaclyn' two disciples on a pilgrimage with their master. They'd decided to use their own names to prevent any embarrassing slip-ups.  
  
"We have come to this planet in need of aid. We plan to dock at Vatica, we thought it more likely to find help with our repairs there."  
  
Imam said, exaggerating his accent. They could hear muffled conversation on the other end of the line.  
  
"What is your final destination?"  
  
Demanded the voice on the other end of the line.  
  
"We are going to the Disciples of Peace Mosque on New Mecca." Answered Imam  
  
"How long do you expect these repairs to take?" Asked the voice  
  
"They should not exceed four weeks." Said Imam.  
  
It had been decided four weeks would give them enough time to fix the skiff, which Jack had appropriately named 'Skiff', and to find out any information about the Hunter-Gratzner.  
  
"You may pass. Red flares mark the no fly zones. Trespassers will be shot down. You will not be informed twice." Said the voice.  
  
"They don't seem like a very friendly people."  
  
Jack muttered after the commander of the spaceport had interrogated Imam again when they had docked.  
  
"They do seem overly suspicious of a small ship." Imam replied.  
  
"You don't think they're looking for us, do you?"  
  
Jack said, a quaver of fear in her voice.  
  
"No, I don't." Answered Riddick firmly, ignoring the flicker of doubt in his mind.  
  
"By the looks of some of the junk orbiting this planet some major war's been fought, they probably got reason to interrogate people landing on it."  
  
"Well,"  
  
Said Jack striding towards the lowering hatch.  
  
"Lets go look at the planet."  
  
"Wow."  
  
Jack stared around, open-mouthed. The spaceport resembled a large metal tree stump, with the inside covered with plate fungi. It was no more then eight stories high but its circumference was awesome. In the center stood the Control Tower, it too looked like it was covered in fungi, though the ships docked there were in better repair then the ones docked around the sides. Above them, in the upper levels, small ships, skiffs and scooters were flying, from their vantage point it was hard to make out individual shapes, the only things that were seen clearly were the many different coloured lights, giving the watcher the impression of viewing an insectoid mating dance.  
  
The platform the skiff had been directed to had a diameter of about fifteen meters, and a lift in one corner. It was a dull gray, pitted and scored from years of use.  
  
Imam walked over to Riddick  
  
"I have contacted the Imam of my sect, and he has arranged to have the girl and I put on a carrier leaving tomorrow, you could still accompany us."  
  
Imam and Riddick had talked it over and decided it would be safest if Imam took Jack on to New Mecca as soon as possible, leaving Riddick with the skiff to go his separate way.  
  
"I'll go tell Jack."  
  
Riddick said, ignoring the offer. Jack, still entranced by the view, didn't notice Riddick until he put his hand on her shoulder, though he was making no effort to hide his footsteps.  
  
"Isn't this something?"  
  
She murmured as she gazed around  
  
"Yeah, sure is."  
  
Riddick said briskly, hardly noticing the view  
  
"Imam's arranged transport for you and him to go on to New Mecca tomorrow so you better pack your stuff."  
  
It took a full three seconds for Riddick's words to reach her.  
  
"What!"  
  
She yelled swinging around.  
  
"He decided it would be safer for you to go with him."  
  
Riddick said not meeting her eyes.  
  
"He, or you?" Jack spat.  
  
"I'm not going, and you can't make me."  
  
The last sentence was delivered in a cool voice  
  
"If I had've wanted to have my life controlled I would have stayed in the Placement Center!"  
  
Riddick took a step back, surprised by the venom in her voice  
  
"From now on I make my own decisions, and if you can't stomach that then I'll leave." Jack's mouth twisted bitterly  
  
"Your not the first person I've been forced to run from,"  
  
Jack swallowed thinking of how very true the last statement was  
  
"And you won't be the last."  
  
Riddick was shocked, no one had spoken to him like that in years, well at least not anyone still breathing, and now some know-it-all kid had told him off without a trace of fear in her eyes. He felt a surge of admiration and started to laugh.  
  
Jack was surprised, of all the possible reactions she'd expected to what she'd just said laughter wasn't one of them.  
  
"Well, you better go tell Imam what you just told me so he can make arrangements for someone else to carry his bags."  
  
Riddick chuckled as he shoved the still recovering Jack in the direction of Imam. 


	4. Part 4

Mac looked up at the sky. She'd scavenged farther the usual today and was almost to The Divide, the stretch of land that ran along the border of the wasteland she called home and the slums of the City.  
  
"Damn!"  
  
She snarled as twin forks of lightning split the gray-black sky. It was winter, or what should have been winter, though on Serenity it was pretty much winter all year round. The weather had been the first thing to go.  
  
*Not that anyone was surprised* Mac mused.  
  
*Having countless weapons shoved up your arse and then exploded would have that effect on anything*  
  
That's how the City had got its description. The rain was torrential in its ferocity and it was anyone's guess how long it would last, half an hour? Half a day? Half a year? Another fork of lightning split the sky, followed by the crack of thunder. Mac cursed and took off at a sprint, dodging twisted bits of metal and busted masonry.  
  
Crouched in the entrance of the tunnel Mac seethed; she had just beaten the downfall and cursed her stupidity for having been caught in a situation she could not control. Visibility was less than zero; all that could be seen was a gray-brown wall of pelting water. With a growl she turned and moved deeper into the tunnel systems.  
  
There was a soft beep as the electronic security system accepted her codes. With an impatient sigh Mac pressed her palm to the screen and looked at an invisible spot set at eyelevel on the door. She waited soundlessly as the equipment processed both her fingerprints and retina ID. The door opened soundlessly and Mac stalked across the threshold. She dropped the bag that held her day's pickings and entered the central chamber of the shelter.  
  
Before Mac had moved in this had been a dwelling for sewer workers. It had a main chamber and five anti-chambers, though three had collapsed from explosions above the surface. The two that remained were a sleeping chamber and a small cooking alcove. Mac prowled through all the rooms checking to see if anything had been disturbed.  
  
Satisfied that all was well she settled herself in the central chamber and set about cleaning her knives. With the weather like it was it didn't take long for a blade to rust, and on the streets a damaged weapon could mean the difference between walking away, and leaving in a body bag.  
  
Imam briefly squeezed Jacks shoulder as he stepped onto the boarding ramp of the carrier that would take him to New Mecca. It wasn't a luxury one by anyone's standards, but it would get there. Hopefully in fewer pieces then the last transport Imam was on.  
  
"Good luck."  
  
Jack whispered fighting back tears. Imam smiled and handed her a folded piece of paper.  
  
"On this is the address of a safe place to stay until the skiff is repaired."  
  
Jack turned to go but Imam laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Be careful little one. The universe is a dangerous place." He smiled.  
  
"I trust Mr. Riddick to protect you, but you must also help him, for he has found his humanity after many years adrift and it will be painful for him to face himself and some of the things he has done. You must aid him as much as possible."  
  
And with that he walked into the carrier. Jack backed away as a mechanical voice instructed people in the surrounding area that the carrier was about to take off.  
  
"Hey kid."  
  
Riddick said coming up soundlessly behind her.  
  
"How you holding up?"  
  
"I'm fine. Imam said to give you this, said it was a safe house or something."  
  
She muttered turning to head back to the skiff. For all the brave words that she had said to Riddick, she was scared.  
  
*God I hope I don't have to run from him. 'Cause I don't think I could escape*  
  
A tear rolled silently down her cheek.  
  
*So much for being strong in the face of adversity*  
  
Jack thought with bitter humor.  
  
"We better get back to the skiff, pack up, and then head towards this safe house."  
  
Riddick looked at the address scribbled on the scrap of paper Jack had given him with suspicion.  
  
"The Brothers of Light, Abbey, great, religious freaks, just my luck."  
  
Jack ignored Riddick's obvious lack of enthusiasm.  
  
"Let's go, maybe they'll feed us and,"  
  
Jack shivered through her gore soaked shirts, though they had long since dried  
  
"Give us some clean clothes."  
  
She lifted her arm and smelt the fabric.  
  
"Yuck! Even dead those things are dangerous." 


	5. Part 5

"Well. This is the address."  
  
Jack looked dubiously at a small door set in a dark stone wall that reached two stories above their heads. It was topped by electro-wire; electrified razor wire, and a half story up jagged pieces of glass, set into the mortar of the walls, began.  
  
"Figures."  
  
Muttered Riddick. With a mental sigh he knocked. A small piece of wood, at about eye level, slid open. Two rheumy eyes peered suspiciously out, first at Riddick, and then at Jack.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
They demanded. Before Riddick could get a word in the voice continued.  
  
"Sorry! No beggars!"  
  
He didn't sound all that sorry at all.  
  
"Go see the Prophets of the Moon Goddess. Down this street and to the right."  
  
Briskly he slammed the spy-hole up, or rather, tried to. While the annoying little priest was talking Riddick had un-holstered the gun he'd stolen when walking out of the spaceport, it was now stopping the flimsy piece of wood from being closed.  
  
"Open the door."  
  
Riddick said calmly.  
  
"Or I'll blast you brains all over the ground."  
  
The eyes widened in fear.  
  
"Then," They gulped "I shall die nobly, protecting my cloister and God's Will and Word and his."  
  
"Bartov? Bartov? BARTOV! Who's at the Gate? Oh hello."  
  
A pair of faded blue eyes had replaced Bartov's glaring gaze.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
They asked politely. Jack broke in before Riddick could murder anyone.  
  
"Hi!"  
  
She said brightly.  
  
"I'm Jaclyn and this is Richard. Our friend, Imam, directed us to ya pad. He said he sent word that we were coming."  
  
She gave another bright, disarming smile.  
  
"Why, umm."  
  
The priest was somewhat put out by her brightness, Riddick was gazing at her in astonishment.  
  
"Wait! Your Imam's, umm, Friends."  
  
The way he said it made Riddick again tighten his hand on the gun. The priest turned to Bartov.  
  
"Open the door man! They're expected!"  
  
They were quickly ushered in and all was going well until Riddick was asked to give up his gun.  
  
"No."  
  
He said flatly, the small scholarly type who had asked for it almost had heart failure. Their party came to a dead stop, the priest that had greeted them after Bartov, Father Jhonas, cleared his throat and with an apologetic shrug tried to explain.  
  
"Mr.? I didn't catch your last name."  
  
He said with a smile. Riddick smiled back, a smile composed largely by teeth.  
  
"I didn't throw it." He said.  
  
"Hmm, yes, well. I hope you'll understand, but we have a policy of no weapons within the Sanctuary."  
  
His voice became flat and cold.  
  
"Serenity has been at war with herself for the last sixteen generations. The last wars ended four years ago. We called them the Religious Wars. Earlier wars had been between opposing fractions of government and self styled warlords; this one involved most of the major religions on this planet. You may have noticed the large wasteland near our city when you flew in?"  
  
"You really can't miss it."  
  
Jack said quirking an eyebrow. The priest looked back at her gravely.  
  
"There were four major Cities on this planet, in the beginning all covered no less then five thousand square khans, and none contained less then three billion souls."  
  
The Priest took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself.  
  
"There are now only two Cities, Vatica and Laminae. Combined there populations would exceed no more then one million."  
  
He looked at Riddick darkly.  
  
"Please, forgive us if we feel the need to ban weaponry within this Sanctuary."  
  
Riddick handed over his gun.  
  
The Hall was a large rectangular building. It had a dais in one end and the rest of the space was taken up with rough metal tables and benches. Only a quarter of the room was occupied. Brown robed men sat, eating silently. Father Jhonas cleared his throat.  
  
"We'll get a meal into you, then we will discuss your plans."  
  
He said with a smile.  
  
"Wait! Father."  
  
Jack stopped embarrassed; her voice had carried the length of the entire hall. Bartov glared at her, but Father Jhonas just smiled.  
  
"Father,"  
  
Jack continued in a lower voice.  
  
"My brother needs medical attention."  
  
She had noticed Riddick limping slightly when they had entered the Hall.  
  
*Probably wasn't going to say anything. Typical male! *  
  
The priest looked contrite and hurriedly assured Jack that her brother's injuries would be taken care of. Jack could feel Riddick glaring at her and smiled sweetly back at him in return. Father Jhonas led Jack to a table, placed a dish of soup in front of her and ushered Riddick off to the infirmary. With a sigh Jack dropped into the seat she was directed to, the last of her worries about this place disappeared when she smelt the soup.  
  
Riddick glared at the young priest who was stitching up his leg, the young boy was shaking so much he had dropped the needle three times. Riddick decided to be patient, he gave the young man what he hoped was an encouraging smile and reviewed what Father Jhonas had told them. But he couldn't concentrate, he was worried about Jack, despite what she had said about not taking shit from him he'd seen the naked fear in her eyes when she'd talked about running away again. With a nervous jerk the kid cut the gut he'd been using to bind together Riddick's led and scuttled out of the room, almost colliding with Father Jhonas. With mumbled apologies he fled. The Father chuckled.  
  
"You may have to get used to that."  
  
He said, referring to the skittish child.  
  
"You see, you resemble a member of a policing force common in this City. They patrol the streets, putting a stop to what they see as trouble. They are not known for their gentleness."  
  
Riddick waited for the priest to say more, but he remained silent, eventually he began questioning Riddick about their trip, stay, and departure. When Riddick again stressed the need for secrecy and the haste needed to get off the planet the priest sighed, his face screwed up as if her were trying to decide something. He must have come to a decision because the next second his face cleared.  
  
"I might be able to help you, 'might' being to optimum word. I'll contact someone I know and we'll meet them when they send back word. I'd advise you not to bring your sister."  
  
Riddick rose and thanked him, but as he left he could hear the priest mutter darkly to himself.  
  
"Anything for a friend of Imam's."  
  
A quiet girl of about twelve showed Jack to her room, and after much cajoling and teasing Jack found out her name was Sara. She shyly showed Jack how to work the pluming and suggested that she have a bath before Late Meal. Jack asked and found that there were four meals served daily; Early Meal, Mid Meal, Late Meal, and Watch Meal, Sara explained that Watch Meal was only for the night sentries, who manned the walls of the compound.  
  
Riddick showered and changed into the gray clothes that the Father had lent him while his were being cleaned. With a knock he pushed open the door of Father Jhonas's office. The priest gave him a weary smile and beckoned him to sit.  
  
"Well."  
  
He said with false cheer.  
  
"I've contacted the person, we only need wait for them to reply."  
  
Riddick's patience was at an end.  
  
"Who the hell have you called and why the hell do you keep looking over your fuckin' shoulder like you expect him to be there with a gun?"  
  
The priest winced at Riddick's casual blasphemy but answered him none the same.  
  
"'She' was an old. friend, who owes me a favor, and if I don't convince her of that,"  
  
He gave a slightly hysterical laugh.  
  
"A gun will be the least of my troubles." 


	6. Part 6

With a silent scream of annoyance Mac picked up her C.O.M pager  
  
*It better not be another job, because the next person that pages me is gunna find themselves...*  
  
She looked down at the brief message  
  
*Well. Fuck Me.*  
  
Slowly and carefully Mac put away her numerous knives and walked slowly over to the I.T.C satellite hook-up in the kitchen alcove. She silently congratulated herself for reining in her temper and letting the guy pay her in computer software, not blood. Mac slid into the chair and sent her massage back. It was short; the only thing it contained was a time and place. She bounced the message off every satt. currently in orbit and added a scrambler to make it untraceable. Then she got up and pulled on a heavier cloak, picking up her three sets of double holsters she headed for the door.  
  
Father Jhonas jumped when the electronic beeper on his pager went off. He quickly scanned the message, then shot to his feet.  
  
"Come on, not a second to lose!"  
  
Was all he said as he raced out the door. With an annoyed growl Riddick stalked after him.  
  
They stopped in an ally some distance away. It was dirty, full of broken boxes and rusted metal. A voice echoed out of the darkness.  
  
"You're late."  
  
Father Jhonas looked sound franticly, trying to pinpoint where the voice was coming from. The voice continued.  
  
"I should kill you where you stand for having the nerve, to contact me."  
  
Father Jhonas seemed to gather himself, weather from fear or courage Riddick couldn't guess.  
  
"I called you to give you a chance to work off your debt to me."  
  
The voice in the darkness laughed.  
  
"What could I possibly owe you?" It spat "Other then a knife in the back."  
  
The priest's trembly voice rang out in the darkness.  
  
"It was I who left the door open for you."  
  
He answered.  
  
"Oh, and I thought that was because you trying to payback some of the evil you had done."  
  
"You know confession is secret."  
  
"What I know is that life is sacred."  
  
The ageing priest seemed to shrink  
  
"Do you think there is a day that goes by that I do not blame myself for what happened to you children?"  
  
Cried the priest angrily.  
  
"Every day I must live with the fact that I could have saved you, but did nothing."  
  
Harshly he was answered by the darkness.  
  
"And every day I must live with the fact that I didn't save them, but did everything."  
  
The air was thick with silence, finally the voice in the darkness spoke  
  
"What is it that I must do to relieve myself of this debt? Kill you friend there?"  
  
A hand pointed to the shadows where Riddick had concealed himself.  
  
"No."  
  
Answered the priest.  
  
"This man needs to repair his ship so he can leave the planet. Quickly."  
  
"What do I look like? A fucking mechanic? Why are you doing this anyway?"  
  
"I'm doing it as a favor to a friend."  
  
"That's rich. Did you tell your friend what happens to people to whom you give favors?"  
  
"Will you never forgive me?"  
  
"If you want forgiveness get it from your god. The only thing I'm capable of giving anyone is death."  
  
With a sigh the priest threw down a bundle that had been hidden in amongst the folds of his robes till that moment.  
  
"Here is what you will need to know."  
  
With that he turned and left the ally. Riddick followed, mulling over what he had learned.  
  
Riddick rose early the next morning and it was agreed that he would come back at what appeared to be noon on this planet and bring Jack to the skiff. Father Jhonas's 'friend' was waiting for him when he arrived. She waited till he got within earshot.  
  
"It's fucked."  
  
She said in a flat voice, her face was hooded so he couldn't gauge her expression.  
  
"Can it be fixed?"  
  
"Not likely."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
Riddick wasn't about to take this stranger's word for anything.  
  
"I had some 'friends' check it out."  
  
"And how reliable are your friends?"  
  
Mac sighed, suddenly tired with the exchange.  
  
"The best. I'm owed favors, I'll call them in to get you a ship."  
  
She turned and started walking towards the lift.  
  
"Why the hell would you do that?"  
  
Without turning she said.  
  
"Because I don't like you, and I want you gone."  
  
"So are we going to the skiff now?"  
  
Jack asked as Riddick walked back into the main hall.  
  
"Nope, not today. One of the good Father's friends declared it fu- broken."  
  
Jack hid a smile at the word Riddick had cut off.  
  
*Like I can have anymore-bad influences*  
  
"How's your leg?"  
  
Riddick looked startled at the question, then he just shrugged. Jack rolled her eyes.  
  
"Do you want something to eat?"  
  
"Nah, I'm fine."  
  
He turned back towards the door.  
  
"Where you going."  
  
"Got some business to attend to. Don't worry, I'll be back before night fall."  
  
Mac watched as her new 'boss' went into one of the better bars in the neighborhood. Smiling she followed him. By the time she found a table that afforded her a good view of the bar and his table, two girls had joined him. They weren't high quality, just cheep sluts employed to show the customers a good time.  
  
*Probably attracted by the size*  
  
And by the way his hands were moving he was defiantly having a good time.  
  
*Men. Time to break up this little party*  
  
Mac used the shadows to move until she was right next to the table. The girls were the first to notice her. The blood drained out of their faces, leaving them a rather unattractive chalk white. Stiffly they pulled away from their 'mark' and quickly made their way to what little protection the bar offered. When Father's 'friend' finally looked up Mac let herself radiate some of the disgust she was feeling.  
  
"Your ship is waiting for you. Same place as the skiff."  
  
With that said she turned and walked out.  
  
When Riddick got to the place where the skiff was last seen with Jack he was, well, somewhere between surprised and shocked. He was looking at an old company cruiser, the small ones that were used to convey delegates across planet. It was still in very good condition.  
  
"Wow."  
  
Was all Jack said, it was clear she approved of their change of transportation. Father's 'friend' was working on one of the wings and didn't bother acknowledging their presence, though Riddick had a feeling she had been aware of them as soon as they entered the spaceport.  
  
"Who's that?"  
  
Asked Jack, pointing to the figure.  
  
"I don't know, let's go ask."  
  
Halfway to the ship Riddick felt Jack slip her hand into his. Somewhere inside him, something cracked, it wasn't a big crack, but it was a start. Riddick gently squeezed her had in reassurance. Mac looked up when the man and the kid had got within speaking distance  
  
"Very impressive. I'm Richard and this is Jaclyn."  
  
Jack gave a cheerful wave. Mac ignored it.  
  
"I'm known as Mac."  
  
She said, clearly stating that it was not her real name without actually stating that that was not her real name.  
  
"So where'd ya get the ship Mac? It's a beauty."  
  
Mac smiled slightly under her hood. The kid was sweet. It was gunna get her killed, but she was sweet.  
  
"I was owed a favor or two. I just cashed them in."  
  
"Wow, they must have been pretty big favors."  
  
Mac allowed a little humor to creep into her voice.  
  
"Oh, they were, they were."  
  
Before Jack could ask anymore probing questions Riddick ushered her into their new ship to explore.  
  
*What an interesting couple. This should prove.entertaining* 


	7. Part 7

It didn't take long for the news to get out that Mac was working again. In an even shorter time she was getting offers. It all came to a catalyst the following day. Five men stepped out of the lift and started walking towards the ship. Mac was fiddling with the landing gear and Riddick and Jack were inside.  
  
"Heard you was working again Mac, good news travels fast."  
  
Mac looked up.  
  
"Bad news travels faster."  
  
She said in a cold, flat voice. Jolay, The Web Mistress's right hand man didn't lose any of his composure.  
  
"Mistress has a job she thinks you might-"  
  
"No."  
  
" 'Scuse me?"  
  
"No I won't excuse you and no, I won't do the job. I'm simply doing this to repay a favor. That is all."  
  
"No one refuses The Mistress."  
  
Said one of the men flanking Jolay. Mac put the tools she had been working with down and raised her cowled face.  
  
"I just did."  
  
Two of the men moved forward, fast. But not fast enough. With a feral hiss Mac buried a knife into the one on the lefts' guts, as she turned to confront the man on the right she pulled hard on the hilt. Going with the arm motion she used her elbow to break his nose, then swung around with her left arm, thrusting upwards she used the momentum of her swing to push the broken cartilage up into the frontal lobes of his brain. He dropped like the proverbial stone.  
  
"Nobody threatens me."  
  
Mac crouched back down and returned to her work on the landing gear.  
  
"Take your garbage with you when you go, and spread the word, I'm not working."  
  
Riddick's senses kicked in big time as soon as he left the interior of the ship. There was a scent in the air salty, metallic.copperish. It was one he knew well. Blood. Walking over to where Mac was working Riddick surveyed the ground. Finding nothing he lent casually against the side of the ship.  
  
"Cut yourself?"  
  
Mac looked up into Riddick's face.  
  
"It's not mine."  
  
"Whose is it then?"  
  
Riddick inquired.  
  
"Someone who wanted to make a deal."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Mac smiled beneath her hood.  
  
"I didn't like the terms."  
  
Jack looked up as Riddick came in.  
  
"What was wrong?"  
  
She asked. Riddick looked down at Jack's upturned face and forced a smile.  
  
"Nothing. How you goin'?"  
  
Jack looked down at the mess of hacked up objects in front of her.  
  
"Well, I think it's edible."  
  
She offered with a weak grin.  
  
"I've eaten worse kid."  
  
Jack looked down at what was supposed to be their lunch.  
  
"Then I sure as hell hope you've eaten better."  
  
She muttered going back to work.  
  
As Mac went back to fiddling with the landing gear she winced. She could feel a massive migraine coming on. They happened every once and a while. When she'd spent to long in her lair. Yesterday was her first trip out in about two months. And after two months seeing in pitch-black darkness or near enough, her eyes weren't coping well with the change. Mac ignored the nausea and concentrated on rewiring the circuits in the repulsor-lifts, no malfunctions had showed up on the scan but Mac wanted to be sure. She didn't want these people coming back.  
  
*Though I would like to see him land with malfunctioning repulsers. It would make a nice show 'How not to land a ship', a crash course in flying*  
  
With a small sigh of relief Mac rose and stretched her cramped muscles. The repulsor-lifts were all in perfect working order and her list of things to do had gone from five to four. Mac turned before Jack could tug at her coat.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
She asked with a hint of menace. Jack looked up into the shadowed face and tried not to shiver. The person Riddick'd hired was good at what she did, but personally, she gave Jack the creeps.  
  
"I've got a meal going, if you'd like some. That is.?"  
  
"No."  
  
Mac thought about what she'd just said and decided it was rather rude.  
  
"I've already eaten."  
  
Actually the thought of food was making Mac ill. Her head felt like it was being attacked by gijibots, the special kind they make on Adren-7.  
  
"Tell Big Bad I'll be back tomorrow with some friends."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Jack answered, trying not to laugh. Riddick described as Big Bad was like describing a star going nova as being destructive.  
  
Mac weaved her way through the streets of Vatica. Tags from some of the local gangs decorated the buildings and warehouses she passed, she ignored them, the only tags she was interested in had long since faded. The sky was boiling again, rain was a certainty. Mac gathered her cloak tighter around her.  
  
"She was an ominous figure, a Valkyire of Myth, and a Warrior from Legend- or so the gossip ran amongst the rubbish of the street. Monster, Mystery, Murder. A figure of terror, akin to Death, for neither was ever seen uncowled, and those that saw seldom survived the experience. A Warrior of Virtue, yet possessing none herself. Mistress of the fates of many, Savior of a few. Thread Cutter, Life Taker, Soul Stealer. The shape in the darkness seen just before the meeting of ones gods. Heard in the whistle of a blade as it plunges downwards into the back of an unsuspecting victim and felt in the breath of ice wind creeping up you spine. The one they never broke, the one that got away, the one they haven't caught. Wryd-writer, Wolf-stalker, Wraith-sister. The Black Widow."  
  
Jack looked into the face of the old man and shivered. He was blind, two empty sockets all the testimony that was, all that told that this blind old bard had once seen the world, Jack looked around at the blackened buildings, the scarred faces of the people walking by.  
  
*Such as it is*  
  
She thought sadly.  
  
Jack reached into her pocket just as she realised she had no money. The old man seemed to sense her dilemma.  
  
"Do not feel shame child, that you have nothing to barter or bequeath. Your enjoyment of the Tale is enough for me."  
  
Jack felt a shiver of something shoot up her spine. It wasn't wonder; it couldn't be, for a street rat grows up fast in the gutters, childhood but a myth that others live. But maybe, just maybe, it was akin to wonder.  
  
"Is she real?"  
  
Jack found herself asking. The old man purposely misunderstood.  
  
"Who? Death?"  
  
"No, Her. The Black Widow."  
  
The old man chuckled, his laugh turned into a wheezing cough. Jack took a step back. When he could breath again the old man continued.  
  
"Some say She's just a story."  
  
Jack might've been a genius, but she was amazingly astute at times.  
  
"And what do you say?"  
  
She replied shrewdly. The old man smiled.  
  
"Well, I'm just an old man, who cares for my opinion, hey? Just a crazy old gaffer who should have been put away a long ago."  
  
"What do you say?"  
  
Jack repeated. The old man gave another of those discontenting smiles.  
  
"The Black Widow is real, child, as real as you and me, and very much alive. And as far as I know still relatively human."  
  
The old man got out a battered pipe, made of some kind of alloy.  
  
"Would you like to hear a song, girl?"  
  
He asked changing the subject. Jack nodded, then felt colour rise to her cheeks as she realised the old man couldn't see her.  
  
"Yeah. Okay."  
  
She said. The old man gave a smile and started to sing in a deep, strong voice.  
  
"Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes, are calling From glen to glen, and o'er the mountainside. The summers gone, and all the roses falling. 'Tis you, 'tis you, must go and I must bide."  
  
The old mans voice was rich, and, Jack closed her eyes and imagined, a deep brown colour. The bard now played piping notes on the battered old instrument, then his voice started again.  
  
"But come ye back, when summer's in the meadows Or when the valley's, flushed and white with snow And I'll be here in sunlight or in shadow. Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so."  
  
"That was. good."  
  
Jack said, when the last notes of the pipe had died away. The bard chuckled.  
  
"Only good?"  
  
He asked with a smile.  
  
"Well I wouldn't want you to get a big head."  
  
Jack added.  
  
"Of course not."  
  
Agreed the old man. Jack looked over her shoulder as yet more bells signaled the time.  
  
"Maybe I'll see ya round."  
  
Jack winced at the inappropriate sentence, but the old man just smiled.  
  
"Maybe." He agreed. 


	8. Part 8

"What do you mean, she refused?"  
  
Jolay bowed nervously, his brow almost touching the cold tiles that floored the apartment.  
  
"She refused Mistress."  
  
Though the room was freezing, Jolay had started to sweat.  
  
"I need her Jolay, you are aware of this. You know what she carries."  
  
"Yes Mistress."  
  
Olianda fa Triennium smiled at her almost prostrate servant.  
  
"Do not cringe in the shadows, come forward, I will not punish you."  
  
She smiled as he came closer. Quick as a gutter asp she jerked his chin up. Moving her face so close she could see her silver headpiece reflected in his eyes she spoke.  
  
"But if you fail me again, or what She does to you will seem like mercy after I'm through."  
  
In a small corner of his mind Jolay ran through the pictures that were burned onto his retina, of people, though you wouldn't know it, She had killed. Oddly they comforted him. The Mistress could threaten all she pleased. But at the end of the day Jolay knew that if it came to a contest of brutality The Mistress was so far removed from Her that she wasn't even in the court. 


	9. Part 9

"Maaaaaaaaaaaac? Ya 'dar?"  
  
Two thin children, clad in rags and scraps sauntered out from behind the ship.  
  
"Ha- Yaar, thukdaks. 'Ows 'unt'n?"  
  
Mac replied in Street.  
  
"S'cood s'pose. Ya?"  
  
The girl replied.  
  
"So-so. Ya see'n fa toil?"  
  
"'Pends. ya find'n fa toil?"  
  
"Maybeno, maybeso."  
  
Mac spun for time.  
  
"Eknubs cruz'n?"  
  
Inquired the boy. Scratching at a greenish orangey fungus on one cheek.  
  
"He's inside, she's in the market."  
  
Mac dropped Street and picked up Common.  
  
"Watcha got goin' then?"  
  
Inquired the boy doing the same.  
  
"Seven day? Nine day? Steady."  
  
The girl's head shot up. Steady work was hard to come by; well actually steady work was easy to come by depending on how long you wanted to live. Mac's steady work was good 'cause she'd kill anything remotely dangerous before it knew it was dangerous.  
  
"Watcha givin'?  
  
Mac smiled beneath her hood and said plainly.  
  
"Food."  
  
"HeLa!"  
  
Mika exclaimed as Mac handed out their payments. As if shocked by her own audacity to give voice to her emotions she quickly ducked her head, keeping a tight hold on the food parcel. Mac grinned without humor.  
  
"You'll get same t'morrow if ya come."  
  
Mika looked up in suspicion. She was new to the streets and the stories she'd been told about 'Mac' were none to reassuring. Suddenly Mac shrugged, appearing bored with the entire exchange.  
  
"Makes me no diff if ya show or not. Rats are a tur a doz."  
  
The girl looked up with a frantic light in her eyes.  
  
"We come. You pay."  
  
Mac smiled secretly under her hood. They were hers. 


End file.
